


Day 4: All I want for Christmas is this!

by fantasybean



Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Injured John Watson, M/M, Married Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, concussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasybean/pseuds/fantasybean
Summary: Sherlock was not about to let a concussed John Watson-Holmes sit alone in a hospital bed on Christmas morning. So he decides to bring Christmas, and their three children, to him.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036677
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Day 4: All I want for Christmas is this!

**Author's Note:**

> Another one-shot from my 12 Days of Sherlockmas Collection! Just a little one today :)

“Come along, my children!” Sherlock called up the stairs.

It was early Christmas morning, and Sherlock was stood in the living room with a bag full of presents at his feet while their Christmas tree was empty underneath.

“Coming daddy!” the voice of his and John’s five-year-old daughter, Freya, came from upstairs.

“I’m ready.” Hamish walked into the room, a festive Christmas jumper on.

“Very Christmassy.” Sherlock said and pulled his eight-year-old into his side, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Hamish was the spitting image of his papa – blonde hair, dark blue eyes, upturned nose.

“Papa got it for me.” Hamish smiled up at Sherlock.

Freya ran into the room, a sparkly red dress on and matching pumps. She was Sherlock’s biologically – and it shined through in her grey eyes and dark curls that fell around her face.

“Your shoes are on the wrong feet, sweetheart.” Sherlock sat her on the sofa and knelt before her to help her swap them over.

“I’m sad we can’t do presents at home today. Why can’t papa just come home?” Freya pouted.

“I know. But he got a concussion yesterday when we were chasing down a bad man and the doctors want to keep him under observation for twenty-four hours.”

Sherlock had been reluctant to leave his husband’s bedside yesterday evening, but John blearily promised he’d be fine and that he wanted their children to have at least one parent to wake up to on Christmas morning. Sherlock agreed with that, at least, and had returned home and relieved Mrs Hudson of her babysitting duties. Not that she minded – she loved being ‘Nana Hudson’.

“Does papa know we are coming?” Hamish asked.

“No, I thought it’d be a nice surprise.” Sherlock smiled, then went to pick up his youngest child – a three month old baby boy named Alfie, who was fast asleep in his elf onesie. They weren’t sure whose genes Alfie had yet – he hadn’t grown into his features enough. With each surrogacy Sherlock and John had combined their sperm so it was chance who would biologically parent each child. With Hamish and Freya it had been immediately evident, but Alfie seemed to have a ginger hue to his soft straight hair, brown eyes, and soft features that hadn’t filled out yet to reveal many hints that weren’t more than speculation.

Not that John or Sherlock minded. They parented every child the same and loved them all fiercely. It was more for their amusement that they were guessing whose sperm was “quickest”.

Sherlock strapped Alfie into his baby carrier on his chest and hoped he didn’t get too much drool on his purple shirt.

“I’ve called a cab; they’ll be outside in a moment. Come on.” Sherlock picked up the presents and led his children out of 221b and into the awaiting cab.

* * *

“Can I just open one now?” Freya pleaded with her big grey eyes.

“No. We wait till we are with papa.” Sherlock sighed. It was the fourth time she’d asked.

“But this journey is taking for ages.” She sighed and stared out the window.

“We’ll be there soon.” Sherlock stroked a hand through her hair. He knew it was a lot to ask for a five-year-old to wait for her gifts on Christmas morning.

* * *

John was sat up in bed in his private room (thank you, Mycroft) watching some crap telly as he tried not to think about missing Christmas day at Baker Street. He loved seeing his kids open their gifts, and sharing food, and singing Christmas songs…

“Papa!” He was interrupted from his thoughts as his daughter burst into the room and jumped up onto his bed.

“Freya?” John immediately wrapped his arms around her.

“Merry Christmas, Papa!” she smiled up at him.

“Merry Christmas, John.” Sherlock stepped into the room with Hamish by his side and Alfie on his front.

“I didn’t know you were coming! Merry Christmas! I’m so happy you’re here.” John grinned, feeling his headache lessen just at the joyous sight of his family.

“Well we couldn’t very well do Christmas without you now, John, could we?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and put a bag of presents at the end of the bed.

“You guys are the best!” John gave them each an affectionate smile and pulled Hamish up onto the bed too.

Sherlock took the chair beside the bed and got Alfie out of his carrier to perch on his knee and watch the present opening with those big eyes.

“How are you feeling today?” Sherlock asked, using a free hand to squeeze John’s as he did.

“Better. Bit of a headache, bit tired, Doc says give it a few hours, one more check and I’ll be free to go. Which is all I really want. To be home with you guys today.”

“Good. It felt wrong without you this morning.”

"I'm so glad you came to see me." John smiled gently and reached over to tickle Alfie's belly.

“Time for presents!” Hamish opened the bag, handing out gifts as he did.

They spent the morning unwrapping gifts, the children playing with them as they did, and as the room filled with their chatter and laughter John felt ten times better than he had earlier that day when the room had been silent and cold without them all.

* * *

A few hours later John was cleared to go home by his doctor. When they arrived he received fuss from Mrs Hudson followed by stern instructions to rest this year while she got on with the Christmas dinner.

John sat on the middle of the sofa and fed Alfie while he watched Freya and Hamish play with a new science kit they’d been given.

Sherlock brought him a cup of tea and sat beside him.

“I’m glad you’re home.” He sighed.

“Me too.” John rested his head against Sherlock’s shoulder and watched their children chatter and play while smells of roasted vegetables drifted through their home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudo or a comment if you like! :D


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